Fools and hopefuls alike picked the hard and extreme tutorials. Suffice to say, they had also unknowingly picked the locations of their graves.

Wilfrid Pember - Historian - The Start of the Apocalypse

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Gripping the spear in one hand, he set off towards the nearest monsters: the thunderfoot boars. The axe and buckler kicked out in front of him as he walked, so he shortly transferred them to his back: they would be harder to reach in a clinch, but at least now they didn’t restrict his movement.

His boots squelched over piles of rotting leaves and slippery mud as he entered boar territory. The fresh, flowery scent of the safe zone gave way to harsher odours, particularly the pungent stench of rot and dung. Queasy, he clenched his stomach, and his discomfort only grew as the weight of his armour pushed down on him. Regardless, he stubbornly maintained his pace, resolved to see through with the tutorial.

Some minutes after setting off, he raised his guard as he spotted signs of battle, some old like rotting logs torn off their stumps while others were more recent such as gashes across trees and deep hoof prints. The boar trails were easy to spot as they trampled their paths gooey, the mud pulling at his boots, and one trail in particular alarmed him as it was speckled with blood.

Even though Silas grew ill at ease from the sight, he knew he had no other choice if he wanted to pass the tutorial, so he followed the trail, moving slow and almost steady. He abruptly stopped when he saw the haemorrhage worsen as the specks across the path became streaks of crimson.

He clenched the spear and closed his eyes, straining his ears to listen until he heard a deep, heart-wrenching scream in the distance. A human one.

I’m not a coward. Not a coward anymore, he told himself, but despite his words he was trembling as he followed the blood, his guard falling under the tension. As he neared and heard the sounds of combat, he momentarily paused, then sucked in a shaky breath and forged on through the brushes to a horrific scene.

In the centre, there was a boar with bristly brown fur and bloody tusks growling at a woman on the opposite end. Three feet shorter than Silas, the boar had a deep gash down its side, although its injury seemed insignificant compared to the final combatant, a man lying near the boar, still. Gored through his gut, a small fountain of blood spurted from the man’s stomach as he shuddered in agony.

Raw horror was reflected in the woman’s face as she turned to Silas. “Help! Please HELP!” she yelled, straining her voice. Although armed with a sword and shield, it was clear she lacked the strength to wield them anymore as her arms were visibly quivering.

The hog turned its head and spotted him as well. Its black, coal-like eyes considered him for a heartbeat, and it must have loathed what it saw as fury ignited across its face.

As it spun around to charge him, Silas should have frozen up from fear but something spurred him into action. Perhaps it was the slow drip of blood down its tusks, or perhaps its brightly burning resentment, but something forced him into gear as he lunged forward, propelling the spearhead into the boar’s snout with both arms.

Coming back to his senses, he immediately fell back as the boar nasally squealed, violently shaking its head to dislodge the spear.

He reached for the axe across his back but misgrabbed, and his head grew faint from the tension. Glancing at the boar, he was relieved to see it was still occupied, so he tried again for the axe, this time succeeding and grasping it like a lifeline. Before he could grab his buckler as well, the boar knocked off the spear and growled ferociously.

It charged him without a moment’s pause, hooves tearing up the hardpacked ground. He leapt to the side just in time, and the beast passed by. It appeared to turn towards him when it suddenly swerved back to its original path and bashed into a tree, toppling over.

As Silas took out the shield and kept his distance, waiting for further movement, the woman ran forward and slashed at the stumbling boar. Once, twice, thrice and more until its squeals gave way to silence. Her chest heaved up and down with each breath. She squinted at him, then at the boar, then sagged as if all her emotions and fatigue struck home at once.

Standing across from her, Silas didn’t know whether or not to lower his weapon given her frenzied state. This was until her legs gave way, and she toppled over. Frozen in place, it took a second for him to clock what had happened and rush over, sighing with relief as he found her conscious and breathing.

“Sorry,” she said in between gulps of air, “I felt faint and…”

He kneeled beside her in silence, too stunned for words.

Seconds passed and she regained some composure. Using his shoulders as support, she hauled herself up. “We need to go now! There may be other boars nearby.”

He baulked at the prospect of facing another boar, and so swiftly followed her back to the safe zone. As she began to stumble midway through, he pulled her arm over his shoulders and let her lean on him for the rest of the way. He bore more weight than sensible as his armour now hauled down like an anchor, but he couldn’t just leave her either. Fortunately, they returned to the safe zone without obtrusion, and he unceremoniously dropped down, exhausted.

He heard a soft thud beside him and turned to see the woman had followed his example. They made an odd sight, a heavily armoured duo lying side by side, painted with muck and breathing heavily. Soon after, Silas became critically aware of his fatigue as his weariness spread to his bones. He imagined he would lie there and rest for the remainder of the day, only to be pleasantly surprised a few minutes later as he sensed energy trickle into his body.

Eventually, he felt good enough to stand and strip off most of his armour, moaning as the crushing weight lifted. His pale skin was splotched with yellow and purple bruises and thinly streaked with mud. Despite this, he sensed his sores lessening, something he attributed to the safe zone’s increased recovery bonus after some thought - it was weird for his body to heal so quickly but no less weird than being teleported from place to place and facing bloodthirsty boars.

Turning to the woman, he saw she appeared to be in a better state with colour on her cheeks and fewer bruises on her skin. She too had stripped off her armour but not as much as him, and he could see she wore a black sleeveless blouse underneath. She smiled weakly at his gaze and offered her hand. “I guess we’re safe now. I’m Mia.” Although she seemed tired, her eyes were lightly aglitter with excitement. She had a high hairline, chubby cheeks, and her auburn hair lay wildly across her shoulders. She almost looked as scruffy as him with her blood-splattered armour and mud-smudged skin.

“Silas,” he replied, shaking her hand. While he was curious about her excitement, he was more concerned about the boar attack. The sight of the man’s mangled gut haunted Silas. “What happened there?”

Mia’s face stiffened, and the light drained from her eyes. “That was Robert. We met an hour ago and we talked for a while, but then I suggested we check out the other zones. Big mistake, that was.” She paused. “He spotted the boar and said we should get it. I followed him in the moment. It all seemed fine until it suddenly toppled him. It happened so quick and I couldn’t…” She grimaced.

“I tried to stop it, but it threw me aside. When I looked back, Robert had run away,” she continued, her expression darkening. “I don’t know why. I mean, I know why - it was frightening - but,” She visibly deflated. “Anyway, the boar was more interested in him than me. It chased after him and I after it, but by the time I caught up, it charged him one last time. That’s when you came.”

Silas felt his stomach squeeze. “Jesus, I…”

She shrugged stiffly.“I guess I should have expected the danger - this is the extreme difficulty, after all. I just didn’t expect him to run; if you hadn’t been there…” Her eyes grew wet, and she shook her head as if to stifle her coming tears.

Silas recalled how he had advanced on the boar instead of running like Robert. Had it just been a spur of the moment, or was there something deeper to it? Either way, he was grateful that he had as he stood a little straighter now. The fact he had saved someone warmed him from inside and warded off some of his fatigue.

He searched for the right words to comfort her, but she broke the silence before he could. “Ah, I’ve levelled up.”

Eyes widening, Silas thought back to the free points the System had given him - he had forgotten all about them in the chaos. He swiftly checked his status.

Silas Wycliffe - 16 unassigned attribute points

Level 2

Mana: 0/38

Strength: 9

Agility: 14

Constitution: 6

Arcana: 0

Perception: 19

He had also levelled up! With no direction to follow, he split his points evenly, putting the extra point into strength.

Silas Wycliffe

Level 2

Mana: 0/59 (recovery rate: 0.15 per minute)

Strength: 13

Agility: 17

Constitution: 9

Arcana: 3

Perception: 22

He immediately sensed the effects as he felt invigorated at once. He punched out and noticed the difference in speed. His body felt more whole and healthy despite the soreness, and weirdest of all, his entire skin was tingling. It wasn’t necessarily painful, although it was irritating. The sensation didn’t go away even as he scratched himself.

“Do you know why my skin might be tingly?” he asked Mia, “I just distributed my points and it…”

She narrowed her eyes at him, studying his expression, then his body. “Did you, by any chance, put any points into arcana?” she replied, sounding hopeful. Her eyes were aglitter again.